Jupiter Jazz
by DemonShuriken
Summary: *Formally "Diggin' My Potato"* Inspired by the songs of the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack. Sometimes they had to be in disguise for missions, and sometimes that meant they'd have to be flat broke too. What do you do for food then?
1. Diggin' My Potato

**Not exactly crack, but a bit out there. Inspired by the following song of the same name. ...Just, what the hell?**

**Song: Digging my Potato by the Seatbelts (Cowboy Bebop OST 1)  
Word Cout: 272  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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It had been an unusual request, but nonetheless they accepted it. Their mission; catch a criminal. Now, if they had known they'd be stuck on a planet, in really uncomfortable disguises, completely flat broke, well, they might have reconsidered the task. Though, they did manage to scrounge up a few credits working various jobs and street pedaling, but that didn't mean they'd have a five star meal anytime soon.

"What's dinner tonight, Bones?" Kirk asked, shuffling into the cheap shack that was their temporary home. He shrugged out of his blue coat and fell face first into the ratty couch.

"Bell peppers and beef," McCoy answered.

The two of them were particularly qualified for this mission. Given Kirk's hell raising days and Bones being, well,_ Bones_, it was assured that they would be able to catch this guy. The only trouble was tracking him down, and so far they only found out what city he currently lived in; that was also the largest city on west side of the planet. It's been one month since they started this stupid quest. They deserved a pay raise for what they've had to go through, having to be close to the criminal underground and all. At least twice a night they were threatened to be killed.

Kirk turned his head as a soft clink of a chipped plate on a breaking table sounded. He soon raised an eyebrow,

"Uh, Bones?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you're missing an ingredient. Namely the 'beef' part of 'bell peppers and beef.' So, now you really wouldn't call it that, would you?"

"Yes I would."

"But it's not!"

"It is when you're broke!"

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**I don't even know anymore.**


	2. Piano Black

**Inspired by the fantastic Cowboy Bebop yet again. This might actually turn into something, eventually, if I feel like it.**

**Word Count: 384  
Disclaimer: I do not own _Star Trek_ or the music  
Song: _Piano Black_ by Yoko Kanno**

* * *

**Piano Black**

God he hated these side jobs. Sadly it was the only thing that was helping him out on this stupid mission. _I want to be on my ship again_ he mentally whined. He didn't care how undignified it was for a captain to whine. A Starfleet captain should not be reduced to a piano player in a seedy bar, no matter how qualified they are for the mission. Yes, a piano player. Captain James T. Kirk could play piano. He wasn't half bad to say the least, judging by the amount of tips placed in the chipped jar atop the black instrument. But, he hated the place. Some of the most vile things went there to drink and fight. Unfortunately, it was the targets favorite establishment, and even more unfortunate, he hadn't been seen in weeks. So, with really no reason to be there, Kirk continued to play.

That was until the latest in a long string of bar fights broke out over some guy missing their payment to the local crime syndicate bosses. And then one punk had enough sense to slug him in the jaw. Needless to say, Kirk punched back, and soon was dragged into the brawl. Strangely enough, the jazz he now knew by heart continued to play in his mind as he punched and kicked his way towards the exit. Somehow he managed to time his blows perfectly with the beat of the tune stuck in his thoughts.

Right as the song reached its crescendo in his memory, he tumbled out the door with three other guys and they ran for it as the local law enforcement showed up…again. Bones wouldn't be too pleased with him, he knew, as he was sporting a new bruised jaw and a nicely colored black eye. Luckily, he was the first to arrive "home" that evening, smelling of rotgut and smoke, as he was now accustom to. That gave him enough time to start icing his injuries, and hopefully cut down on some of the probably unhealthy swelling that now accompanied the bruises. Soon enough though, Bones wandered in from the streets, unmarred. One glace over at Kirk told the doctor all he needed to know.

"Bar fight?"

"Yep."

"Got your ass kicked?"

"No."

"That black eye begs to differ kid."

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**Review if you'd like to**


	3. Bad Dog no Biscuit

**Damn _Cowboy Bebop_ soundtrack and being awesome. Please note, it's non-beta'd and this chapter genuinely sucks. **

**Song: Bad Dog no Biscuit  
Word Count: 378  
Disclaimer: I don't own _Star Trek_ or _Cowboy Bebop_**

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The city was a jumble of noise and lights accompanied by a quick rhythm. The people moved far quicker here than they did in the farmlands back on Earth. McCoy wasn't too fond of cities, for the most part. Nor was he that fond of the rare dog breeds only found on this planet. But those were the breeds that required the most exercise or they could easy tear a house to shreds. So it was that Bones was left to be a dog walker during his stay here, solely because their criminal just so happened to own one of those rare dogs. It seemed simple enough; get close to the owner while caring for the dog. But then again, nothing is simple when it involves pets. Especially when you lose those pets accidentally.

McCoy had been crossing a street when a stray cat wandered down the sidewalk just ahead of him. The dog, who had been aptly name Hunter, managed to free himself from his leash and immediately gave chase to the little stray. Bones followed, but he wasn't as fast as that dog, and he wasn't about to go jumping over fences to catch up with him. The good doctor did his best to avoid running into the people that walked with the flow of the city, unlike himself, yet he just couldn't help knocking shoulders with a few people. People who turned out to know whose dog it was and that he was running after it. People that worked for the damned wanted man. Who then proceeded to chase after him and the dog.

And the great chase lead him to duck in an alley way just past an old house that had been long boarded up, except for a small hole right where the window should have been. A cat sized hole, with a dogs head stuck in it.

"You've got to be kidding," Bones muttered, seeing Hunter, "it's a damned miracle."

How Bones managed to get that dog unstuck he'll never know, but as soon as he did, he returned that dog to his home and the doctor subsequently quit his job. With a new found hatred for mongrels, he went 'home' as quickly as possible, walking with the rhythm of the city.

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Review?


	4. Chicken Bone

**The song is called_ Chicken Bone,_ for crying out loud.**

**Song:** _Chicken Bone_  
**Word Count:** 322  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Star Trek_ or _Cowboy Bebop_

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It was one of those lazy days, ones where you would just stroll down the street with no particular destination. Those days, when the strangest sights were seen. On that day, the newly 'unemployed' Kirk (he had gotten into another bar fight, this time being the one who started it) and Bones, who was also without a 'job,' walked down the streets to reach the downtown area of the city. It was totally different from the slums they lived in, of course. They had seen skyscrapers on Earth but none shaped like the ones that loomed overhead. Two of the structures looked to be twisting around each other, like a strand of DNA. Nothing like that on Earth as far as they knew.

With no particular destination, they wandered around the main street. At one point they passed a few old men playing some weird gambling game that they could only guessed originated on this planet, probably having been learned by the human colonizers when meeting the natural inhabitants.

"What would the crew do if we taught them that game?" Kirk asked.

"I don't know. They probably wouldn't be happy with betting chicken bones like they were though."

Kirk shrugged and turned his gaze upward, eyeing what was easily the shortest building in the center of the city. The building was shining, with the sunlight reflecting off the many windows set into the frame of concrete and steel. It was barely taller than the cathedral just across the street from it. The two stopped and gazed at it.

"There's the building where our crime syndicate works out of," Kirk mentioned off-handedly. Bones raised an eyebrow,

"Oh. So that's where our mark is. Thank god we found it, our sucky jobs paid off."

"That they did."

Then the two continued on their way down the street. It was too lazy a day to go capture their criminal. No, that would happen at night.

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**Review? **


	5. See You, Space Cowboy

Well, this is probably OOC at some points. Just a fair warning. Note, this scene sort of mimics one of the final action sequences of _Cowboy Bebop._

**Song:**_ See You Space Cowboy_**  
Word Count:** 368  
**Disclaimer:** I own neither _Star Trek_ or _Cowboy Bebop_

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It was suppose to be a completely peaceful arrest. Then they would go back to the ship like it never happened. "Suppose to be" becoming the key phrase. Of course, they just couldn't unlock that peace they had hoped for. The headquarters of the Red Serpent crime syndicate was completely dark, save for the few lights above the door. If that wasn't unusual enough, the city was quiet. There were few cars, few people, the air itself was tense.

"Shit, Jim something's up, we can't do this now," Bones told him as they stood across the street, staring at the darkness.

"It's the only time we have, Bones. Their rat told us that tomorrow he'll be off planet and out of our jurisdiction. He'll run, we'll never see him again, and he'll never pay for what he's done, how many people he's had killed," the captain replied, crossing the longest stretch of road in his life.

"I hate it when you're right."

"Where would the fun be if I was wrong?" Bones could practically hear the smirk Jim had.

The first thirty seconds upon entering the building went perfectly fine. Then there was a subtle noise, a shuffle and a click of metal.

"You know," Jim said to the darkness, "pre-phaser societies really bug me sometimes."

It would be cliché to say 'all hell broke loose.' No, it was more like a volcanic eruption of bullets whizzing through the air. God knows how they managed to find cover and fire back with their phasers. However they managed to do so, they cleared a path to reach an elevator. Up and up they rose, while red dripped down and down.

"Damn," he cursed as blood trickled down his arm.

"Your shoulder-"

"I know, Jim. What I wouldn't give right now for the hobgoblin to be here. Three versus three hundred is better than just two."

"Apparently the Vulcan grip thing doesn't mean one's qualified for a mission. Yet, a doctor is. What the hell did you do on Earth that made you so qualified?"

The doors parted as they reached the top floor.

"Don't ask, Jim. Go, I'll cover you from here."

"Bones-"

"Go, we're running out of time!"

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Review? Maybe?


	6. The Real Man

I really hope to finish this by the end of the weekend. How did this become something? Just...really, brain, really?

**Song:** _The Real Man_  
**Word Count:** 515  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Star Trek_ or _Cowboy Bebop_

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Heart pounding, he continued down the endless hallways, one of the longest journeys of his life. He could only imagine how Bones was doing against the syndicate. Bullets flew around him, wanting, waiting, to taste his blood. Of course there were a lot more guys where their bosses office was. Kirk figured that the target was barricading himself in there. He was supposedly taking cover just around the corner from the room, if taking cover meant multiple guys coming after you from all directions it seemed. At least he was a decent marksman or he would have been dead, knock on wood.

Finally there was a break in the waves of guards coming after him and he bee lined to the office, the blazing red doors basically screaming the boss was in there. He opened the door-

And was met with cool metal just centimeters from his head. Unfortunately for the criminal, he was in the same predicament.

"Well…seems we have a little problem here," the boss said.

"Seems so. What _are_ we going to do about that, DeCrue?" Jim replied, a little smirk forming. The gray-haired man across from him glared,

"Not many use my real name, they just call me 'Boss.' Shall we take this little chat inside?"

"If you want, just keep your guys out. I don't think they like me very much."

DeCrue stepped back inside his darkened room, not taking his golden eyes off the captain, gun still raised. Kirk mimicked the criminal's movements as he entered, the door closing behind him. Silence fell between them for a moment, as a clock ticked away.

"You know you've got a warrant out for your arrest."

"I know that, and don't think I don't know who you are, golden boy. So _James_, are you going to try and bring me in? You have a better chance of killing me before that ever happens," DeCrue replied, trigger finger twitching.

"It would be easier if you just came along, quietly. Hell, I'd put in a good word for you if you behaved. Maybe instead of a life sentence, you'd only get seventy or eighty years."

The moon had began to rise, not quite full, but bright enough to light the night. The room brightened, as the moon passed outside a wall of windows. It was then that Kirk realized that there was no possible way that this man would be going quietly. The gun was already cocked back, he knew that DeCrue was a ruthless killer, not even batting an eyelash at the though of taking another life. The captain only had a few options, each more grim than the last. It was a stalemate.

"'Only seventy?' Well, I'd only be over one hundred when I got out. It's amazing how long people are living these days."

Kirk stepped towards the windows, his mirror following,

"Oh, astounding really."

Another step.

"Then again, I don't think my family has that long-life thing going for them. They're dead already."

Another step.

"That's sad. How did they die?"

Another step. A grin,

"How do you think?"

Bang.

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Review? Maybe? Oh, and I do apologize for any poor grammar, especially in this chapter, as it was written very late at night.


	7. Is it Real Blue

This will be done tonight.

**Songs: **_Is it Real_ and _Blue_  
**Word**** Count:** 421  
**Disclaimer:** I own neither _Cowboy Bebop_ nor _Star Trek_

* * *

"Tell me, Mr. Kirk…is this all real?"

DeCrue watched the captain fall as his bleeding leg gave out beneath him. The criminal, the Red Serpent himself, loomed over him, and in that moment, Kirk understood what a mouse felt when facing a snake.

"What do you mean, DeCrue?"

"Is this real? This life, your failure to catch me. Or is what we see around us just shadows of illusion?"

_Great, not only does he have a gun, he's delusional too_. Carefully he started to inch his hand towards his phaser, which he had dropped as he fell. He knew that it was a stupid idea to try, his knowledge confirmed by the heavy boot crashing down on his hand. He must have made some sort of yell, as DeCrue's patented 'crazy-man grin' widened.

"I want an answer," the villain told him, removing his foot from the newly broken hand.

It was a good philosophical question, he had to admit. But he didn't have time to debate reality. He felt the blood pooling beneath his leg at an alarming rate. _Huh…maybe he hit my artery. Well, Bones won't be happy with me, again._ He figured that his next decision should be the last move in this game.

"Do you really want an answer?" he asked.

"Yes. Tell me."

"I'll tell you if you help me stand, deal? I want to get a last look at the moon, since you'll probably end up killing me."

DeCrue smiled, "You're rather perceptive, aren't you? Deal."

_And you're rather stupid, aren't you?_ Kirk suppressed a chuckle as the crime boss hoisted him up and allowed him to place most of his weight on his uninjured leg.

"Just….let me lean, against the window, okay?"

With DeCrue's arm still locked with his, Kirk placed non-broken hand on the glass for added support, and found it to be surprisingly thin glass. He turned to look at the moon as it graced the city skyline. That disgustingly dirty, smog filled, neon lit, shack-housed city was one of the most beautiful things he had seen.

"Well?" DeCrue inquired.

"This life," he said, "is as real as death."

He mustered what remaining strength he had and slammed his body against the fragile glass. DeCrue's arm was still linked with his.

The fell.

_Falling, with style._ Kirk thought, recalling the words of an ancient movie. The shards of glass around him shinned in the moonlight, like the silver light itself had broken. He could have sworn he heard cathedral bells ringing in midnight.

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...


	8. The Real Folk Blues

I hate this damn fic...two more crappy chapters to go. It'll be done by midnight, I promise.

**Song:** _The Real Folk Blues_**  
Word Count:** 520  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own either franchises.

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He was damn good at covering people. Yeah, he was a doctor, yeah, he was sworn to protect life, but sometimes, that rule goes out the window when you're under fire. Bones was proud had held off a fair few lackeys. Whatever time he could give Jim, the better. Then they would get back to the ship, and he'd get his arm fixed up, and everything would be hunky-dory. But he knew something had gone wrong when the waves of foot soldiers stopped. Phaser ready to fire at anything that moves, he proceeded from his vantage point down the hall towards, trailing after Jim.

Thankfully there were less people trying to kill him by this point. But why? The sirens in the distance, that were surely coming closer, could have scared them off. Yet, he couldn't help but feel that there was more to it than that.

A certain type of darkness loomed ahead of him and draped the room which he figured their target had been hiding. The door was open just a crack, enough to let one small sliver of moonlight reach into the hall. And all was quiet. He pushed the door back with a little creak, and was greeted by cool air, a broken window, and no sign of Jim or DeCrue.

His knew, he just knew, what he would see when he peered down onto the sidewalk below the broken window. He still looked, and without a moment's hesitation opened the channel between them and the_ Enterprise_. Contacting the ship was only for emergencies. Pre-warp societies didn't need to see them beaming up.

"McCoy to _Enterprise_."

"_Enterprise here, doctor. Has DeCrue been apprehended?"_

"In a manner of speaking, Spock. Beam us up, now."

"…_What happened?"_

"No time to explain, just do it."

He should have figured that Spock was good at reading the tone of human voices, having to spend so much time around them and all. Of course the first officer would have to inquire about their wellbeing after hearing what was probably panic in his voice. Barely a minute later, the warp commenced.

He moved automatically as soon as he was in the ship. His fingers reached for the carotid artery and searched for a pulse. _Just one beat, one little sign, please_, he prayed. He was in a partial haze and could barely make out what Spock was ordering as he met them in the transporter room. He didn't care. He had to find that pulse. _Come on, come on!_

"Doctor-"

He had to be there.

"McCoy_-_"

Please!

"Leonard!"

"He's there, goddamn it! He's there!"

He felt himself being pushed back by the superior strength of the Vulcan. The pain in his shoulder flared as his eyes came to focus on the first officer in front of him.

"Spock, it's _Jim_. Let me go-"

"No, you too are injured, doctor. You cannot do anything for the captain if you are not treated first."

He knew the damned hobgoblin was right. He said no more, and allowed himself to be subjected to those 'hyposprays-from-hell,' as the captain called them. He drifted into darkness.

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...*sigh* I apologize for subjecting you readers to this.


	9. Space Lion Memory

I gave up, just a little, sorry.

**Songs: **_Space Lion_ and _Memory_**  
Word Count:** 287  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Star Trek_ or _Cowboy Bebop._

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He remembered seeing broken moonlight falling around him. No, wait, that was just shattered glass reflecting light. He too was falling, as was DeCrue. He had been officially dead. How? He shouldn't be…here, wherever here was. But it was warm, and welcoming. Maybe he should open his eyes. Maybe he'll figure out where he was. Half of himself hoped that it was reality.

He consciously drew in a breath and cracked one eye open, Well, it was very bright at least. Opening both eyes he remembered this place. Medbay. He was alive in medbay, when he should have been on a slab in the morgue.

"Welcome back to the waking world. How can one person sleep so much?"

Gingerly, he pushed himself upright, remembering his broken hand. He glanced to the side to see Bones sitting on the biobed next to his, arm in a sling.

"Your shoulder-"

"Is fine, Jim. You'll be fine by the way, thank Chapel later. She found your damn pulse."

"I thought a pulse was easy to find."

"Not when you're clinically dead for more than a minute!" Bones snapped. _I guess I really am alive, Bones is yelling at me,_ Kirk thought. The good doctor sighed,

"You're the luckiest bastard in the universe."

"I know. Death is probably really mad at me," Kirk chuckled.

"How did you live?"

The captain averted his gaze from his friend. He knew that he'd be asked that, and he shouldn't have an answer. Yet the answer was as clear as day to him. He said 'yes,' and that was all. He breathed again, he felt again. All it took was one word.

"I don't know. I guess hitting DeCrue's body broke my fall, or something."

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1 more, then you're free of this.


	10. Tank!

I do recommend actually listening to the song for this one.

**Song: **_Tank! _(_Cowboy Bebop_ intro)**  
Word Count:** 185  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own either _Cowboy Bebop_ or _Star Trek._

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Mornings were great, especially when he had a fresh cup of non-toxic coffee in his hands. They supposedly had coffee while undercover, but it was more like radioactive mud more than anything. He entered the bridge, smiling, half-limping (thank you recovering injury), but that was alright. They were done here, he had coffee, they were going on shore leave, he had coffee, life was good.

"How are those systems looking, Mr. Sulu?" Kirk asked, taking his seat.

"Ready to go at your order, sir."

"Good." He hit the com button on his chair, "Hey, Bones!"

"_Way too early to be happy, Jim."_

"Never. You know what you should do when we get back to Earth?"

"_I'm almost afraid to ask."_

"You should make bell peppers and beef again."

"_Shut up. Get this show on the road."_

Kirk laughed as he shut the com off, earning himself a raised eyebrow from his first officer, and most of the bridge crew or that matter.

"Should we ask?" Uhura questioned.

"Long story Nyota. On my mark, Sulu."

"Ready."

Nothing could beat this morning.

"3, 2, 1, let's jam."

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Yay it's done. You're now free from this...thing.


End file.
